Parenting according to Brittany and Kurt
by raccoonsinmybasement
Summary: AKA Raising Baby. Brittany and Kurt are paired together for the dreaded 'baby' project. I wonder how that all works out? Slight implied P/K and S/B but nothing obvious at the moment. Spoilers 1x13. Chapter Story.
1. It's a Boy!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or its characters. They all belong to a person more successful than I am...**

**Notes: Procrastinating for my current WIP Puckurt fic. Based on a prompt at the glee_fluff_meme on LJ. Hopefully humorous, or will become so, let me know what you think. Any and all feedback is appreciated so don't hesitate to review! Also Un-beta-d so any and all mistakes are mine, point 'em out, I'll fix 'em! Enjoy!**

**Chapter One: It's a Boy!**

It was the health class that everyone had been dreading for the past two weeks. The big lead up to the 'birth' of their 'child' for the next week was expected, and the students had already been paired up in anticipation for the arrival of their 'bundles of joy'.

Brittany and Kurt were quite the unlikely pair. When the pairs were announced Brittany made her way over to Kurt and began gushing over how fun raising a child, however plastic, would be. Kurt didn't really share the sentiment. Babies, even fake ones, kind of freaked him out. All the crying, and the pooping – he wasn't one for mess, tears and snot. At least one of them was excited. Brittany was very eager to work with Kurt, because according to her, "Their baby will be the best dressed."

Brittany, in anticipation for the big assignment, tried to be as realistic as possible. She wanted to accurately mimic the life of this baby, so she spent the last week with a cushion shoved up the front of her shirt. No one had the heart to tell her that she looked not only ridiculous, but also slightly insane, so they let her rub her now heavily cushioned stomach and coo to it at random intervals.

'Hello pretty baby," she cooed. "Kurt, do you think it will be a boy or a girl?" She looked over at her partner, who was currently deflecting any of the stares, that we heading their way. She may be acting like a crazy woman, but she was his crazy woman damn it!

Kurt swallowed back the urge to tell Brittany that they would be receiving a doll of indiscriminate gender, and that if it had a gender it would most likely be a girl, as the school was too uppity to give them a doll with junk. So he just smiled as Brittany and patted the cushion affectionately. "We'll just have to wait and see," he told her.

"Oh, I hope it's a boy," she gushed. "I want to name him Hubert." She looked over expectantly at Kurt, "Don't you think that it is such a lovely name?"

Kurt bit back his impending laughter at the name. Hubert? Where did she get a name like that? It was – different. Their kid would get picked on in school that's for sure. Wait – was he just referring to a doll, a school project, as _his_ kid? Man, Brittany's enthusiasm must be rubbing off.

When the teacher entered the classroom, Brittany's eyes snapped up, staring expectantly at the teacher. She would be handing out the babies, well dolls, today.

Now, in the old days they used to hand out bags of flour or an egg as a baby substitute. Unfortunately this didn't scare the kids off baby making, and having babies young like they were hoping or at least making them sure to use protection. Most kids would ignore the "baby" by leaving in the cupboard for a week, continuing on with their lives as normal. No, these new babies were fully equipped to demand the attention of the teens for the week. They were fully functioning, crying, excreting doll that you had to feed and look after. So much for ignoring it.

When Kurt and Brittany received their doll, she removed the cushion with a flourish and announced to the whole class, "It's a boy!" with such excitement that no one could tell her anything otherwise. "Welcome to the world, Hubert."

Brittany sat there rocking the doll her in arms, cooing over it as she beckoned Kurt over. "Look, he has pretty blue eyes like you," she stated. Well the doll did have little glass blue eyes that bore a resemblance to Kurt's. He blamed it on him looking like a Hummel figurine, so he could easily be associated with a doll.

"He does, doesn't he," Kurt agreed. He ignored the raised eyebrows that Puck and Santana were sending their way.

Santana was currently holding their doll, but not with the same love that Brittany was holding 'Hubert". Santana had the doll by one of its legs and had it held limply to one side. She was silently seething, this project was going to be distracting Brittany all week, allowing her little time to be alone with the blonde. To make matters worse she was paired with Puck, who was currently mooning over Kurt (subtly of course, but Santana knew that look. It was the same one she saw him looking at Quinn with when she and Puck first started dating.) So, it was going to be a "fun" week.

When class ended, Kurt and Brittany headed out together, the latter still transfixed with the doll. She was currently speaking to it in a hushed whisper, informing it of what they were going to do.

"When we get home," she leant her head closer to the doll. "We are going to play peek-a-boo and read stories. I know a wonderful story about a little duck that grows into a beautiful swan." She smiled when the doll reacted to her voice; it let out a mechanical gurgle and yawn, and then promptly closed its eyes. "Kurt, look," Brittany beckoned him over excitedly. "He's sleeping," she sighed.

Kurt smiled in return. This will be easy he thought. All the baby had done so far was be quiet and sleep; this might be an easy A with Brittany at the helm.

How wrong he was, the week was only beginning.


	2. What do we do with it?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or its characters. They all belong to a person more successful than I am...**

**Notes: Chapter two, Woohoo! Nothing new to report, except I hope you enjoy. This chapter is a little bit of a filler, but leads onto the next one which is slightly more entertaining. Feedback is appreciated and encouraged, so don't hesitate to tell me what you think. Un-beta-d so any of the mistakes are mine, so point them out and I'll fix them. Enjoy!!**

**Chapter Two: What do we do with it?**

Now that the day was over, the new parents were preparing to take their child home for the first time. Brittany and Kurt had decided to go to Kurt's house and do some of the required parenting together while Burt was working at the shop. It would give them the space they needed to start raising this baby.

As they were walking towards the main doors they heard a shrill, mechanical cry echoing down the hall. At the end of the hall stood a very annoyed Santana arguing with a very equally irritated Puck.

They were standing in front of Santana's locker where Santana was currently juggling her books and the baby. In an attempt to make room in her arms, she shoved the baby hastily into her locker. It was only for a second, to rearrange her books, but the doll reacted to the sensation and let out a constant stream of noise.

"Ugh," she bowed her head in frustration. "Shut up, you little plastic demon." She turned to Puck, "How in the hell do we make it stop crying?"

Puck rolled his eyes, then brought them to glare on Santana, "Maybe it wouldn't be crying if you held it instead of shoving it into your locker."

"Well, Puck," she spat, "Maybe, if you offered to hold the damn thing while I was grabbing my books, instead of standing there like the ass you are, I wouldn't have to shove it in my locker in the first place."

Just as Puck opened his mouth to respond, Brittany, who had made her way over to the pair, cut in. "Santana is right you know, you could offer to carry the baby." She gestured over to Kurt who was making his way over with Hubert. "She has been carrying it for nine months after all."

Santana gave Brittany a thankful smile, "Thanks Brit. It's nice to have _someone_,"she looked pointedly over at Puck, "on my side."

"You do know it's not real, right?" Puck snapped. He was annoyed with the personal attack and decided to break Brittany's little baby bubble, "It's. a. Doll." He said this last part with a harsh edge in his voice, as Brittany bit her lip and looked at the ground her eyes welling up with tears.

Puck felt a little bad with what he said now looking at Brittany's crushed face. She had the same face that his sister had when he let slip Santa wasn't real. He felt like he had just kicked a puppy.

Both Santana and Kurt glared at the boy. Kurt handed Hubert over to Brittany, who was being comforted by Santana, and marched over to the mohawked teen.

"Way to go, Neanderthal!" he spat. "You just have to be an arrogant ass when your ego is slightly bruised." He pointed an accusing finger at Puck, "Why don't you go grow some balls and look at your own _short_comings before picking on others." He pushed his face close to Puck's, eyes narrowed and his voice came out in a low, threatening growl. "If I hear that you are so much as looking at Brittany in a malicious way, so help me God, I will cut off your balls, if there are any, and use them as paperweights. Capisce?"

Puck was so stunned by Kurt's words, and turned on by this authoritative side of the boy, that all he could manage was a broken, hurried nod. Kurt smiled, in a sinister way – like the cat that caught the canary, and said a quick, "Good," before heading over Brittany and Santana.

Brittany had cheered up significantly, excitedly talking to Santana about their babies having a play date. Whatever Santana had said it had worked.

"You could bring your baby over to play on Saturday," she decided. "It will be so much fun and I get to spend time with you too." She hugged Santana, which brightened her mood, and ushered Kurt out of the school (they had to get home and feed Hubert after all).

"See you later, alligator," Brittany called over her shoulder as she waved goodbye (Brittany had become a fan of the animal farewells). Kurt also turned and glared at Puck to remind him that if he messed with his girl, his wife for the week, he was going to cut a bitch. Puck caught Kurt's gaze and was still confused to whether or not he was terrified for his genitalia, or aroused. When he thought about it, worrying about his penis was pretty much the same as being aroused by Hummel.

Saturday would be interesting for the pair of them.

*

On the short walk to Kurt's house, Brittany was busily chattering about little Hubert's future as she envisioned it.

"I think he'll grow up to be a vet, Kurt," she declared.

"Huh," Kurt gave her a sideways glance, a smile playing on his lips. He loved that Brittany was so into this. "Why do you think that?"

"Well, he giggled when I wrapped him in the ducky blanket," she explained. "It means he likes animals. Hubert is going to be smart, like you, and he likes animals, like me. A smart person who likes animals could be a vet."

"Oh I see," Kurt smiled, "He could also be a zoologist. They are smart and like animals too." He saw Brittany's puzzled expression and elaborated, "They are scientists that go watch and learn about animals."

Brittany nodded in understanding, "That would be a great job."

Kurt couldn't believe he was talking about the future of a doll that they would have to give back in a week. Wait – it suddenly dawned on him. They had to give it back in a week. Kurt looked over at Brittany and the huge smile she had on her face and wondered how she was going to take giving Hubert back. He decided to think about it when the time came, maybe he could convince the teacher to let her keep it. Kurt looked up and realised that they were almost at his house.

"We're almost there," he said to Brittany.

She looked up from the doll, and turned to Kurt, "Good, because poor Hubert is hungry. We need to feed him."

When they arrived, Kurt led the way into the house and headed towards the kitchen to prepare to feed the doll. It's only a doll, feeding it would be easy. Kurt soon learned that to assume, makes an ass out of you and me.


	3. Why won't you stop crying?

**Disclaimer: Neither _Glee_ or it's characters belong to me, they belong to some people more successful than I am.**

**Author Notes: This chapter is a little more sentimental than humorous at this stage. A bit fluffy some would say. Any who I hope you like it and as always, feedback is always appreciated. All those who review, thank-you. :D I appreciate it so much. Un-beta-d so mistakes are mine, just let me know if you find any particular horrible ones and I'll fix 'em. Enjoy!!**

**Chapter Three: Why won't you stop crying?**

When they entered Kurt's house they set up camp in the living room. It was a nice open area and Brittany decided she wanted to hang out there, as opposed to Kurt's basement-bedroom. She said it made her feel more "momsy" – what ever that meant. Kurt just smiled (he had learned to just roll with it) and let her play with the doll, while he went into the kitchen to make up the bottle.

The formula they were meant to feed the baby with came in little sachets. It was a powder that you added water to, "special food" as it were. The water had to be a certain temperature for the baby to register it and then log it so the teacher could check and evaluate. Kurt just seemed to think that the whole process was overkill. Couldn't they just fill the bottle with water?

Brittany was currently playing a rousing game of peek-a-boo with the doll. Covering her eyes and enthusiastically cooing, "Where's the baby?" then revealing her face, removing her hands and letting out a very high pitched, "There he is!"

Kurt was smiling to himself as he heard Brittany interact with the doll. He admired that she was not letting the fact that the game was entirely one sided upset her. The little game continued on, Brittany's adorable mantra echoing in the bright, open room. It was however interrupted when Brittany, with an over zealous arm movement, knocked the baby and it let out its first high-pitched wail.

The sound seemed to echo throughout the large empty house, making the sound seem louder and more unpleasant. Brittany sat there for a moment, shocked. Her hands raised to her lips, which were in a perfect 'o' of surprise, eyes wide and frightful with what she had just done.

She quickly scrambled to hold the doll, which had toppled of the couch where she was seated. She cupped Hubert to her chest, rocking him back and fourth, cooing to him. It continued to cry.

"Kurt!" Brittany's voice echoed down the hall. The call sounded desperate, so in his haste to get to Brittany, Kurt left the bottle on the counter and hurried towards the living room.

He found Brittany pacing around the living room cradling the doll eyes welled up with tears. She looked up helplessly at Kurt, she felt so guilty for knocking over Hubert.

"Kurt," she whimpered, "I was playing with him – and I-I-I k-knocked him off the couch!" she let out a small sob, "It was an accident."

"Oh Brittany," Kurt walked over to the girl and wrapped her in a hug. "It's okay, I know it was an accident. Here, hand me Hubert and I'll try to calm him down."

He took the doll from Brittany, and cradled it to his chest. He watched as Brittany went to sit on the couch, she looked absolutely crushed. He was trying to think of a way to comfort her when his thoughts were hounded by the dolls screams. He had to quiet the doll first.

As Kurt was scrounging for ideas to soothe the baby, Brittany piped in, "Maybe if you sing to him, he will feel better. You have a lovely voice Kurt, I always feel happier when you sing."

Kurt turned his head to look at Brittany, who was giving him a watery smile. He was touched by her sentiment and began to sing to the doll a sweet lullaby that he hadn't had sung to him in ten years.

It started out softly at first, just to himself, making sure he new all the words and the flow of the melody. It had been so long since he had heard it. He gained his confidence and began pacing the room, singing the melody louder and rocking the doll to and fro, hoping to subdue the crying. It just wasn't working.

He paused and turned to Brittany, "I don't think it is working. It doesn't seem to have any affect."

Brittany just returned his gaze, a thoughtful expression on her face. She mulled over the details of the situation. Kurt was singing a lovely song, but the baby was still crying. "Maybe he can't hear the song," she said. Her brows knitted together as she tried to piece together the puzzle that was forming in her mind.

She could hear the singing and it was lovely. She thought about what she was using to hear -- her ears! Her face lit up as she announced to Kurt, "I've got it!"

"Got what?"

"I know why the singing isn't working," she stated.

"Go on," Kurt urged.

"I don't think it can hear you, Kurt."

"Come again?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Kurt." Brittany tilted her head to the side, like an adorable, confused puppy.

"It's an expression," Kurt closed his eyes and explained. "What do you mean?"

"I use my ears to hear," she explained, "but Hubert doesn't have any ear holes -- you see?" She pointed towards the dolls ears, which in fact had no holes; they were just hard, plastic ear replicas.

"So what do we do?" Kurt looked over at the girl. "How do we help that?"

Brittany paused as she thought it over. "Well, if you give me a minute," she ventured, "I could go get a pencil and poke some in."

Kurt just stared at Brittany dumbfounded. Did she really just suggest that poking holes where the dolls ears should be would improve its hearing ability? Brittany had the most sincere look on her face and he didn't want to upset her, but the stress that he was feeling and the continuous crying just made him loose it.

He burst out laughing at the absurdity of the statement, the sound ringing over the crying of the doll still clutched to his chest. Brittany looked a little taken aback, but then a smile slowly grew across her face, and she was laughing right along with him.

The pair continued to giggle at the predicament they now had themselves in. It was getting late and they still had a doll that was crying. Suddenly another noise joined the cacophony of sound. Brittany's stomach let out a large growl, begging to be fed.

This just sent Brittany into another fit of giggles, the rumbling noise surprising her. Kurt on the other hand had an epiphany. "The bottle!" he cried, "I'm so stupid – I left it on the counter when you called me in here."

He handed Hubert over to Brittany and walked into the kitchen. Spying the bottle on the counter he quickly grabbed it and brought it back into the living room. Brittany saw the bottle in his hands and made the connection. "Oh, the poor baby's hungry," she said.

She sat down on the couch and beckoned Kurt over with the bottle. She gingerly places the bottle in the dolls mouth and the crying automatically ceased. Kurt relished in the silence and ignored the slight ringing in his ears. The doll began to make a mechanical sucking noise, and Brittany smiled up at Kurt.

"He likes it," she beamed. "That's all he wanted -- He wanted his food, yes he did," she cooed. "I'm so, so sorry, Hubert, for knocking you over," she continued, "It was an accident." She looked up at Kurt, "I must be the worst mother ever. What mother hurts their baby?"

She had such a defeated look on her face and Kurt knew just the thing to cheer he up. He wasn't one for being overly nostalgic about his mother, which was more his dad's forte, but this whole experience had him reflecting on her more and more.

"Well Brittany," Kurt began, "Every mom makes mistakes – heck, and even my mom did. I remember this one time, when I was three; she was gardening in the backyard and accidentally knocked me in the head with her trowel." He smiled at the memory, it was one of those that his dad would think back on and laugh about and Kurt would smile along, just relishing in these moments where he could really remember his mother.

"It was a nice, warm, spring day and she was planting some new plants in her vegetable patch. She had just finished weeding and there was a big garbage bag full of the weeds that she'd pulled out. I thought it would be funny to cover myself in the weeds, sneak up behind her and scare her." He continued a laughing tone in his voice, "So, I go over to the weeds and cover myself in as many that would stay on. I crawl over to my mother, trying to be as scary a monster as possible, and jump up behind her, roaring." Kurt was really getting into the story, his arms gesturing the next few moment, "Then, she spins round with her trowel in her hand, and knocks me over."

Brittany gasped, Kurt just gave her a reassuring smile and continued, "I wasn't hurt too bad, but my mom was quite distraught, I guess my crying didn't quite help matters either. I'm a superficial bleeder, so even the smallest cut bled a lot," he explained, "she thought she had spilt my head right open." He pointed to a scar hidden by his hairline, "That's how I got this scar, see. The next thing I remember is getting my head stitched up in an ER and my dad reassuring my mom that it was an accident. That how was she to know that I was going to sneak up behind her, or that I was in swinging range or something."

He glanced up and looked at Brittany, "So, the point is, that all mom's make mistakes and have accidents while parenting. My mom was the best mom I could have asked for, and even she made a few mistakes, Brit." He gave her a one armed hug and pressed his head against hers, "Don't beat yourself up over it, okay?"

Brittany leaned into his embrace in response, "Thanks, Kurt, I really appreciate it."

"No problem."

They both sat there in silence, watching the doll eat. Even when it had finished its bottle, the two continued to sit there, exhausted, with Kurt's arm around Brittany's shoulders and her head against his. They eventually dosed off, and Burt was greeted with the sight when he came home from the shop.

He smiled at the pair as memories washed over him of him and his wife when Kurt was first born. The boy had a set of lungs on him, and Burt could recall many sleepless nights and family doses on the couch. He grabbed a blanket and draped it over the two, making a note to call Brittany's mother and let her know that Brittany had fallen asleep and that it would best if she could stay the night.

He couldn't bear to wake the two as they both looked exhausted. He chuckled to himself as he thought of the other things that were yet to come. Parenting was a hard gig, and Burt was well aware of it, more so than most, so for now he would let them sleep.


	4. Stepford Santana? I don't think so

**Disclaimer: Neither _Glee_ or it's characters belong to me, they belong to some people more successful than I am.**

**Author Notes: Sorry for the wait between updates. I wanted to keep it as a weekly update, but life got a little busy. Hopefully I'll be back on track though. This chapter we get to see the hot, but dysfunctional family dynamic of the Lopez/Puckerman household. Any and all feedback is appreciated and encouraged!! Un-beta-d so mistakes are mine, just let me know if you find any particular horrible ones and I'll fix 'em. Enjoy!!**

**Scene four: Stepford Santana – Not going to Happen**

As the week began, the moment she was handed this plastic – thing, Santana knew she would be terrible at looking after it. She just looked at the doll disdainfully and let it drop by her side. It wasn't a real baby anyway, and if it were she would be sure to leave a good five-foot radius between her and it. She was not one for the smells that babies produce.

Santana had no maternal instincts what so ever, and was not "wife and mother" material by a long shot, whoever said any different, was crazy. Brittany seemed to think that Santana could be more maternal. Brittany had the whole maternal thing down pat. Santana found this both endearing, and highly irritating. Brittany was now spending all her free time with her damn doll and had no time to "hang-out" anymore. This was making Santana unusually tense and irritable and she had decided to take it out on this high maintenance piece of plastic.

To be fair, it wasn't making itself the easiest thing to look after. The pair had come up with a very fair and sophisticated way to decide who got the doll in the evenings.

They flipped a coin.

Santana unfortunately lost and was left with the job of looking after the doll at night. This was not something she enjoyed. Their doll decided it would be fun to cry at all hours of the night, and no matter how much Santana urged it, (yelled at it would probably be a more appropriate term) it refused to silence itself, making it hard for her to get her required mount of rest resulting in her being more bitchy (was that even possible) than usual.

Puck, on the other hand, was determined to nail this project. Ever since Monday when Kurt had ripped him a new one, he had done a complete one-eighty. Not only to prove to himself that he could be a good father, (even thought Quinn gave the baby up for adoption, it still hurt that she thought he would be a crappy dad) but maybe impress Kurt with his newfound paternal instincts. If he could show Kurt that he could be responsible, the other teen may adapt his narrow view of him and seem him as a new and improved Puck. One that Kurt could see himself dating.

Puck wasn't too sure when he started liking Kurt, it was kind of sudden. When the baby drama happened Kurt didn't treat him any differently, he continued to hold a high distain for Puck, and he liked that. Kurt seemed to be one of the more real people he knew, he didn't apologise for being himself and that was something Puck respected and found extremely endearing and sexy, and if he could prove to Kurt that he was serious about his life – he was going to damn well do it!

Puck wasn't sure about the whole '"looking after a kid thing", he thought it would come naturally, after all he did help his mom a lot with his little sister when he was younger. However, it was slightly different now. Instead of having an encouraging mother helping him interact with a tiny human (even if it was a doll in this case) he had a prissy, pissy teenaged girl who wanted nothing more that to get rid of the damn thing and go out.

Puck had a sneaking suspicion that this attitude was brought on by Brittany being so maternal and having no time to "hang-out" with Santana. So now the bickering pair was stuck with a doll that was constantly crying due to negligence and pure confusion on both the teens part.

"Would it kill you be a little more caring, Santana?" Puck snapped. He was bouncing the baby around her living room, trying to mute the crying spell it had started when Santana unceremoniously dumped it onto the coffee table. "You just dumped it on the table! Couldn't you have gently laid it on the couch or something?"

"Oh puh-lease," Santana retorted as she rolled her eyes, "Don't tell me you are going all 'daddy Puck' on me?" she emphasised the title with air quotes and then moved her arms to cross across her chest. "You are just as irresponsible as I am, you left the doll in your gym bag while you played football - when it was your turn to watch it!"

"Hey, at least it was warm and comfortable. It was sleeping anyway."

"Fine – here – give me the damn doll," Santana rolled her eyes again and marched over to Puck, snatching the doll from his arms. "I'll look after it if it will get that self-righteous look off your face."

"Self-righteous!?" Puck scoffed incredulously at Santana's assessment.

"Yes, self-righteous," Santana pointed an accusing finger at Puck. "You are acting all high and mighty because this damn doll doesn't cry when you have to look after it. But whenever I am looking after it all it does is cry, cry – and what do you know cry some more!"

Puck looked taken aback by Santana's tirade. She had a wide, wild look in her eyes, her hair was falling out of her always-tidy ponytail and she had her eyebrows raised so high on her head that he could climb up the wrinkles that were forming on her usually smooth forehead.

"I am no freaking Stepford wife Puck! I am a freaking teenager, and this is a stupid project and I am done doing all the heavy lifting! You can keep the damn doll tonight and then give me crap about looking after it once you have."

Santana then promptly slapped the doll back into Puck's arms and retreated upstairs to her bedroom. Puck stood there dumbfounded with a crying doll and was just able to hear Santana screech down the stairs, "You can show yourself out."

"Do you want me to get you some tampon's while I'm out? Cause you're sure acting like you need some!" Puck called back up the stairs. Santana's response was a shoe that had been pelted down the stairs at the boy and a classy, "Fuck you, Puck!"

Puck just grumbled, dismissing the angry girl with a wave of his hand. He then grabbed his bag and the one they were given with the doll and promptly left Santana's house.

***

Mrs. Puckerman stood in her son's doorway, bathrobe clutched tightly around her tired frame and her eyes drooping with fatigue.

"Noah, honey," she began, stifling a yawn. "I am happy that you are taking some initiative with this project, but is there anyway you can make it stop crying? I have an early shift at work tomorrow and I need my rest."

"I know Ma," Puck sighed. "It's just – I've tried everything! I've fed it, burped it, changed it – hell I even sang to it. It just won't shut the goddamn hell up."

Mrs. Puckerman frowned at her son's choice of language, "Language, Noah."

"Sorry, Ma."

She sighed, "I'll guess I will have to go find my ear plugs then. Goodnight, honey. Sleep tigh—oh never mind." Mrs. Puckerman cut herself off as she caught her son's glare. She then shut Puck's door as he slumped backwards onto to his bed, doll still wailing.

"I bet Santana broke it, dropping it all over the place," Puck grumbled as he dragged himself up from the comfort of his bed and began to walk around the room bouncing the doll to and fro. "Some mother she is, huh?"

***

Meanwhile, Santana was enjoying a relaxing evening where she was able to catch up and have a lengthy phone conversation with Quinn, followed by a hot bath and full night's rest.

That doll had been driving her crazy for the past few nights and no matter how many times she fed, changed, sang and coddled the baby, it would continue to cry late into the night. Santana had gotten past the stage of caring. She had resigned herself to the fact that she was no good at parenting a pain in the ass doll and was happy to hand it over to Puck for the night; let him suffer.

From what she understood (from all of Puck numerous, desperate calls) he was suffering greatly. Served the self-righteous dick right, let him experience how hard the whole job is, then he can criticise her actions.

Santana fell asleep with a smile on her face, basking in the silence.


End file.
